Intermediate Generational Studies
by Goober5000
Summary: Jeff's estranged father discovers that Jeff goes to Greendale, and decides to pay a visit. Abed tries to find out where the fourth wall is.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Intermediate Generational Studies  
><strong>Author:<strong> Goober5000  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Not really. There are allusions to 1.14, 2.12, 2.16, 2.18, and 2.20.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 1,558  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own Community; NBC and Dan Harmon do and they're awesome. In fact, I freely allow them to use all my ideas. ;)  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Jeff's estranged father discovers that Jeff goes to Greendale, and decides to pay a visit. Abed tries to find out where the fourth wall is.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> This is just a short scene inspired by speculation that Bill Murray would guest star as Jeff's father. I realized that Abed is such a huge movie buff that it would be impossible for him not to recognize Bill Murray, and that led to the idea of him keeping notes on what the sitcom would be like if it "actually existed" - probably in the same notebook that we saw in 2.08. I picture this taking place a few weeks into Season 3.  
><strong>More Notes: <strong>Coincidentally, the day after I published this, along comes a Dan Harmon interview addressing this very subject, as well as commentary on whether Abed would recognize the actors! Sounds like other people are thinking along the same lines.

* * *

><p>"Troy, how can there be any dispute about this?" Annie asked incredulously. "Mary Poppins is about a nanny who brings joy into a dysfunctional household, and who helps a father learn to love his children again. It's probably the best Disney movie ever made."<p>

"I love Mary Poppins, Annie, but we're talking about which was the _better movie_," said Troy. "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is all about a car that can float, fly, and drive itself. Mary Poppins can't top that."

"Mary Poppins has people walking on the ceiling and jumping into cartoons," countered Annie. "And it has better songs, too."

"Mmm hmm, I'm going to have to side with Annie," said Shirley. "I sing 'A Spoonful of Sugar' to my boys whenever they have to take their medicine."

"But Dick Van Dyke _liberates_ an entire kingdom in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," Britta protested. "He overthrows the corrupt Baron and frees the imprisoned children. In Mary Poppins he's just a chimney sweep with a bad accent."

"Plus in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang he has a rocket sled and makes breakfast for his kids using a train," said Troy. "And he calls himself Caractacus."

"Hey, do you want to hear what happens when you translate Dick Van Dyke into Russian and back?" Pierce put in hopefully.

"_**No**_," said the other four.

"Abed, you pick one," said Annie. "What's your official movie review opinion?"

Abed put his hands up. "I abstain. I try not to get involved in holy wars."

"Yeah, we kicked your butts in the last one," said Pierce.

"Jeff, what about you?" asked Annie. "We need a tiebreaker."

"I like both," Jeff said absently, busily mashing the buttons on his phone.

"Jeff, would it really kill you to engage with the group once in a while?"

"I'm engaged," Jeff said, not looking up.

"Not when you've got your nose planted in your phone all the time," said Britta. "Who are you texting, Gwynnifer?" She yanked the phone out of his hands.

"Give that back," Jeff said, grabbing for it, but Britta held it out of his reach.

"Hah, he's playing Angry Birds," Britta said. "I made him lose, too."

"Knock it off," Jeff said, lunging for his phone, and knocking his pile of books onto the floor in the process. Papers and a photograph slid out of a folder. Jeff hastily covered them up.

"Holy sh[bleep], is that Bill Murray?" exclaimed Abed.

Everyone looked at Abed with various degrees of puzzlement. "Abed, did you just bleep yourself?" asked Jeff.

"Sure did. Record scratch app, meet censor app. Pew-pew!" Abed spun his phone around, then pocketed it. "Keeps it network-friendly. But we digress. Jeff," he gestured with his index finger, "that was clearly a photo of Bill Murray. When did you meet him? Did you get his autograph?"

Jeff grimaced as he finished collecting his things. "Abed, your dorm is wallpapered with movie posters and you have more DVDs than a Chinese street vendor. You see celebrities everywhere."

"Abed, people sometimes carry pictures around for no reason," Shirley said. "Before my husband came back I used to keep a picture of the Old Spice guy in my purse."

"Ooh, good choice!" Annie gushed. She and Shirley giggled.

"Gay!" Pierce guffawed. "I knew it! Bill Murray is his secret lover!"

Jeff glared across the table. "Pierce, that joke was old _two years ago_. Or have you somehow failed to notice my chemistry with every woman at this table?"

Shirley glanced at him. "Every woman?"

Britta had been looking vaguely at the ceiling. "That _would_ explain the nipple play..."

"Aughhh!" everyone flinched. "You promised not to remind us of that!" Troy wailed.

"Hey, now that we know, Jeff, it's no big deal," Pierce said matter-of-factly. "Mister Ballet Dancer here outed himself already. He can help you come to terms with it." Troy scowled at him, but couldn't form a response.

Jeff looked distinctly ticked off. "It's not Bill Murray!" he said, biting off each word. "It's..." he fidgeted a little, drawing even more attention to himself. "It's my dad." Jeff let out a ragged breath. "My mom called and told me he heard I was at Greendale."

Annie reached toward him, but caught only table. "Your dad? Aren't you... well... not on good terms with him?"

"Doesn't matter. Don't care. Haven't called him; don't want to see him."

Abed's eyeballs looked like they were going to pop out of his head, though the rest of his face remained typically blank. "Of course! It's sweeps week! Bill Murray plays Papa Winger!"

Jeff stared at him. "Don't ever use the phrase 'Papa Winger' again."

Abed didn't seem to have heard, as he was rifling through his bag. "I've been trying to put together the cast list for our show, as well as candidate celebrities for special guest spots, voice-overs, and cameos." He pulled out a well-worn notebook and started paging through it. "It's a perpetual work in progress, and highly sensitive to a number of variables such as target demographic, time slot, lead-ins, competing shows, and Nielsen ratings." He stopped at one page and flipped the rest of the notebook around the back so that the page was on top. "LeVar Burton was a home run, but Bill Murray knocks it out of the park." He pulled out a pencil.

Jeff grabbed the notebook before Abed could write anything. "Cast: Jeff Winger - Ryan Seacrest." He rolled his eyes. "Britta Perry - Elizabeth Shue. Annie Edison - Alison Brie." He lowered the notebook and peered at Abed. "From Scream 4?"

Annie looked nervous. "Does she play someone that dies?"

"Rebecca Walters," Abed said, not completely answering Annie's question. "And also Trudy Campbell on Mad Men."

Jeff continued reading. "Shirley Bennett." He raised an eyebrow. "Three names are crossed out: Oprah, Tyra Banks, and Amy Adams."

"What?" Shirley briefly seemed to be trying to look confused, annoyed, pleased, and angry all at once, before angry took over. "What?" she said again, an octave lower, glaring at Abed.

"It's a work in progress," Abed said quickly.

"Pierce Hawthorne - Chevy Chase... _that's_ realistic..."

Pierce frowned. "Shevy Chase? Isn't he really old by now?"

"...Troy Barnes - Dulé Hill, Abed Nadir - James Roday."

"Shawn and Gus from Psych!" Troy exclaimed. "I love that show!" He and Abed exchanged palm slaps and chest thumps.

Jeff put the notebook down, where Britta and Annie both grabbed for it; Britta won after a brief scuffle. "Abed, James Roday is white, handsome, and not weird," Jeff said. "He'd be a better choice to play _me_."

"Dramatic license, Jeff. There aren't many Palestinian-slash-Polish-slash-American actors who could successfully pull off an autistic savant." Shirley, Annie, and Britta looked pained; Abed used the opportunity to take back his notebook, which Britta yielded without resistance.

"Anyway," Abed said, "this is elementary Chekhov's Gun: the fact that we saw the photograph of your dad means that he's going to visit Greendale sometime this week. And the fact that he's being played by Bill Murray means that we're shooting for high ratings. So we need to go all out on this. Annie, wear low-cut shirts and short skirts the rest of this week." Annie looked sideways and tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to pull her cardigan closer; Britta started to make a retort but Abed cut her off. "Pierce, try to kiss Shirley." Shirley made a shocked face and brandished her handbag at Pierce, who had given her a leer. "Jeff, say something sarcastic. I'm going to go look for the camera." Abed got up and darted over to a corner of the room.

Jeff got out of his chair as well, and was shortly joined by a couple of the others. "Abed, we are not going to go another year with you pulling this routine- Stop trying to take the library apart!"

"Angry works too. Keep going," said Abed, who was trying to open the front of a computer monitor.

"Your life is not a sitcom, Abed. Some people look like other people. I look like Ryan Seacrest. My dad looks like Bill Murray. That does not mean he is played by Bill Murray! This is not The Wizard of Oz; you are not going to find a man behind the curtain holding a video camera!"

"Smile!" came a familiar voice, prompting a shriek from everyone. Jeff and the study group turned around to see Dean Pelton trot through the doorway from the library. He was carrying a clapboard, and a camcorder was dangling from a strap that seemed to be serving as a necklace rather than a shoulder support. "Oh don't mind me, Greendale is updating our student profile multimedia section on the campus website, and my, don't you look candid here today! Mind if I grab a few 'candid camera' shots, hmm?"

Jeff finally lost it. "Get out of here, Moby or Allen Funt or whatever your real name is! I'll feed you that camcorder for lunch!"

"Jeffrey!" Dean Pelton yelped, scampering out of the room, followed by Jeff in hot pursuit. "Have you lost your mind- ooh, this is fun! I wonder how far I can run before you catch meeeeeeeee!"

[Opening credits roll. The cootie-catcher appears as normal, except that all the actors' names are replaced by the ones on Abed's cast list. Chang's actor, not having been mentioned, is blank.]


	2. Chapter 2

Well, it looks like I had another chapter in me after all! Chapter 3, if it happens, is going to be the tough one, although I already have a few funny scenes in mind. Reviews and comments are appreciated!

* * *

><p>Britta, Shirley, Troy, Abed, and Pierce were sitting in the cafeteria, chatting amiably – except for Pierce, who seemed to be dozing, or at least non-responsive to stimuli. Abed and Troy were halfway through a plate full of chicken fingers, while Shirley had finished her lunch and Britta was picking at a Caesar salad. She had a silly grin on her face.<p>

"Abed, honestly I'm flattered," Britta said, "but Elizabeth Shue passed her prime a while ago. Remember Jeff's escapades last year? There's no way he's spend that much effort on someone her age."

"It takes two to tango, Britta," said Abed, earning a wince from her. "And in the first season of Cougar Town –"

"Greendale is not Cougar Town, Abed. Despite your encyclopedic knowledge of TV, I don't think you have us figured out yet." She took a sip of organic juice. "Uh oh, here comes Chang."

Troy's expression instantly changed. "He must have found that frog we put in his office!"

"Pretend like you're asleep," said Abed. The two of them put their heads on the table in unison.

Chang reached the table, sporting a wild grin. "I finally figured it out, peons," he said conspiratorially. "It takes just over 508 licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop."

Shirley and Britta regarded him skeptically. Britta ventured, "You mean to say you took a Tootsie Roll Pop and _counted_ the licks before you finished it?"

Chang's face became instantly serious. "No, don't be silly. I had twelve of them and averaged them out."

A snort escaped from Troy, who tried to cover by turning it into an actual snore.

Chang looked at him critically. "You guys are really weird." The grin returned. "Chang you later. I gotta go find Winger." He ran off.

"He didn't even try with that one," said Abed, as he and Troy sat back up.

Britta and Shirley watched Chang depart. "Shirley, I am so glad that baby didn't turn out to be his," Britta said in a slightly dazed voice.

"Amen," Shirley said, matching her tone.

* * *

><p>Chang scooted past Annie, who sidled into the cafeteria cautiously, looking pale. Seeing Shirley looking approximately in her direction, she waved frantically. Shirley frowned at first, then grew concerned as Annie beckoned furiously. Excusing herself, she made her way over to Annie, who grabbed Shirley's arm and directed her to a remote table. She was clearly agitated.<p>

"Annie, what's wrong?" Shirley asked. "I haven't seen you like this since we spent the night in that ghost town."

"I looked up Alison Brie on IMDB," Annie said in a stage whisper. "She looks _exactly_ like me."

"Oh," Shirley said, uncertainly. "Well, that's okay, isn't it? Like Jeff said, sometimes people look like other people."

"No, not like this," Annie shook her head, more times than was necessary. "It's uncanny. She looks like me, she _sounds_ like me, and we even have the same birthday! It's like we're the same person!"

"Wait, wait," said Shirley, feeling lost. "'Sounds'?"

"On YouTube," said Annie. "Did you know she can do the Charleston? And she studied in Scotland! I've never even been outside Colorado!"

"Annie, I think you might be taking this a little too seriously," Shirley said.

"I _have_ to take this seriously! I might not even exist!" Annie squeaked. "I might be just a figment of someone's imagination played by an actress!" Her eyes widened. "Oh my God, that's why Abed kissed me! He thought I was her!"

Shirley did a double-take. "_What?_"

Spying someone over Shirley's shoulder, Annie hushed her quickly. Jeff slouched grouchily past their table toward the lunch line, offering them a "Hey Alison" and "Hey Tyra".

Annie stared after him, wide-eyed. "I need to go to the infirmary," she told Shirley, practically running out of the cafeteria.

* * *

><p>Shirley, somewhat shocked, made her way back to the table where Abed and Troy were arguing about some episode of Inspector Spacetime. "Abed," she interjected, "what's going on between you and Annie?"<p>

"Nothing," Abed said.

"Are you sure there isn't something you should tell the group?" she said sweetly.

"Nothing's going on. Unless you're talking about those biology notes she asked me for last week. I tried to rewrite them to remove all the movie references, but I may have missed a few."

"What about that list you made this morning? Is there a reason you put that actress down as Annie, what was her name, Alice somebody ... ?"

"Alison Brie," said Abed.

Troy frowned. "Why would someone give their kid that name? Is that supposed to be like Alice in Wonderland but with cheese?"

"No reason but the obvious," said Abed. "I just think that actress suits her."

"Did you try to kiss Annie?" Shirley asked point-blank, in a voice half an octave lower.

Troy did a double-take. Britta looked very surprised. "Wait, Annie and _Abed_?" she asked. "Shirley, you can't be serious."

"I _am_ serious!" Shirley protested.

"And don't call her Shirley!" Abed said triumphantly. He looked around. "Am I the only one who's been waiting three years to use that quote?"

Shirley tried again. "Abed, Annie seems to be really upset about something, and she seems to think you tried to kiss her."

"No, Annie and I are just friends. She seems to be into Han Solo and Don Draper though. Britta might know how to help with that - it's probably not healthy for Annie to be emotionally invested in imaginary characters."

Britta narrowed her eyes at Abed. "I'd call you a hypocrite but I'm not sure that you have any emotions to invest."

"Ooh, psychology burn!" Troy put in gleefully, then stopped. "Er, sorry bro."

"Not a problem," said Abed. "I'm pretty much the dispassionate observer of the group. Almost every TV show has one. So, like Spock, I'd be reluctant to admit to any emotions even if I did have them."

"You and your TV shows," grumbled Shirley. "I bet it you _did_ kiss a girl you wouldn't know how to react."

"Maybe," said Abed. "Want to find out?"

"Okay," said Shirley, "that's inappropriate and I'm a married Christian woman, so I think we'll just head on over to biology, shall we?"

Everyone gathered up their things (Pierce after some shaking to be sure he was awake) and set off down the hall, including Jeff, who had managed to grab an egg salad sandwich to go. Troy hung back to look concernedly at Abed, who was wearing his usual contented, neutral expression. "Uh, Abed," he said in a low voice, "man to man, you don't _really_ think we're in a sitcom, do you?"

Abed considered. "No, I don't think so. Because if this _is_ a sitcom, it opens up a huge can of worms. Why am I always comparing our lives to this or that TV episode? Who am I in the sitcom universe? Don't forget that I was the one who invited everybody to join the group in the first place."

Troy's eyes widened. "That's true!"

"So what's so special about me that I would somehow have access to the fourth wall? That's not really something I'm comfortable with, because it would imply that I have some sort of transcendent understanding of the universe, or perhaps even control over it. Like Haruhi Suziyama, or the kid from St. Elsewhere. It's difficult enough to make sense of the universe; why would I want to be in charge of it?"

Troy looked doubtful. "So you know the universe is not a TV show, right?"

"Don't worry, Troy, I'm not delusional. I know the difference between TV and reality. TV is just a tool, a tool with stories, tropes, patterns, and lessons that can be useful in life. It's a good way to help reality make sense, but it's not reality itself."

Abed stopped and turned toward the end of the hallway, facing away from Troy. "I was telling Troy the truth. This really was what I thought at the time. But little did I know what was about to happen in biology."

Troy looked at him. "Abed, who are you talking to?"

"Nobody," Abed explained. "I'm doing the voice-over."

"But if you really don't think we're in a sitcom, why would you bother doing a voice-over?"

Abed shrugged. "It's what a sitcom character would do."

Troy shook his head. "Just when you start to make sense, man." They entered the classroom.

* * *

><p>Professor Kane, the only other person in the classroom, looked up as they filed in. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite study group," he said with no hint of a smile. "Here to save the whales? Or are you still keeping to the small fry?"<p>

Jeff walked up to Professor Kane and looked him square in the eye. "Sir, I can tell you without reservation that neither I nor anyone in my group tried to let those crayfish escape."

"Naturally," Professor Kane met his gaze, stone-faced. "And the aquarium just decided to tip itself over? Neither the frog nor the lizard terrarium was moved, and you were the only group complaining about your assignment."

"That's irrelevant," Jeff said, "and your accusation is based entirely on circumstantial evidence."

"Whatever," Professor Kane said. "I don't care enough to find out who did it, and the school doesn't have the money to order a new batch, so you're getting a makeup quiz instead. And you're lucky I'm sparing the time for that." He produced a worksheet. "You have forty-five minutes."

Jeff brought the worksheet back to the table and sat down. He glared at Britta. "Britta, I'm sure those dead crayfish are very touched that you thought of them, but can you please just stick to rescuing cats from now on?"

Britta looked mortified. "It wasn't me this time, honest!" Jeff, Shirley, and Pierce regarded her unsympathetically. "Look, I know you don't believe me, but we're learning about 'The Boy Who Cried Woof' in my psych class, and –"

"Ugh, never mind," said Jeff. He sat down, pulled out his phone, and started typing. "Let's just finish this cell diagram so we can get out of here."

"Jeffrey!" Shirley said indignantly. "We're not going to do this quiz for you!"

"Nope," said Jeff, "I'm going to do the quiz for _you_. I'll find a diagram on Wikipedia that we can just copy over." The phone was suddenly yanked out of his hands. "Hey!"

Professor Kane was looking at him evenly. "No phones during the quiz," he said, waving it back and forth in Jeff's face. "Don't you realize I can still see and hear all of you from my office?"

Jeff could only muster incoherent syllables in response.

Professor Kane raised an eyebrow. "That's what I thought. You know, not too long ago I thought I saw grass growing out of a phone just like this." He turned away and walked back to his desk.

Jeff groaned. "Please, someone tell me he or she knows what mitochondria look like."

Troy lit up. "Hamburgers!" he said. They looked like little hamburgers under the microscope. And chromosomes look like hot dogs." He frowned. "Or maybe I have that backwards."

Annie suddenly dashed in, quickly looked around, then dumped her things next to Shirley and sat down hastily, drawing everyone's attention. Shirley whispered to her, "Annie, are you all right?"

Annie was out of breath. "The infirmary's out of Xanax. Dean Pelton apparently told them to prescribe placebos, because they 'work just as well but cost much less,'" she said, making air quotes. "I was halfway to class before I realized I wasn't calming down, so I had to run back and find out what was going on." She gulped some water. "And that made me late, and I'm _never_ late." She put her head in her hands.

"Oh, sweetie, we're here for you," cooed Shirley, patting her on the back.

Glancing around, Jeff awkwardly broke the pause. "Um... I hate to turn those comforting words inside-out, but we really need your help on this." He slid the worksheet toward Annie. Annie sighed heavily, gave Jeff a dirty look, and started filling it out. As answers appeared in the blank spaces, the tense looks on most of the study group's faces began to ease, except for Annie's, which was furrowed in concentration.

There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for a response Chang burst in, followed by someone behind him. "Official Greendale business!" Chang snapped, saluting the door. "You have a visitor, Winger." He smirked.

A gentleman precisely resembling Bill Murray appeared. "Hey Jeff!" he said, waving jovially.

"Dad!" Jeff gaped.

"You?" Pierce blurted.

"Bill!" Troy exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, have I met you?" the visitor asked Troy, squinting askance.

"GAAAUGHHHHHH, everyone's an actor!" Annie shrieked. She seized her backpack, vaulted over the window sill, and dashed out through the courtyard. Multiple pairs of eyes followed her path.

Abed raised an eyebrow. "Oh well. I guess I'm not the B-story anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

So we're finally going to meet Jeff's dad for real, and for canon, in the episode that airs today. That was actually a strong motivator for me to complete Chapter 3 - which finally includes some significant screen time for Jeff's dad - before then, otherwise I would lose the benefit of a clean slate, free of preconceptions or precedents. Reviews, as always, are appreciated. Also, please let me know whether you prefer the direction I took or the direction the show takes!

* * *

><p>The newcomer broke the silence. "Now that's the way to make an exit," he said approvingly. "Is she a gymnast?"<p>

Jeff's gaze snapped back to the doorway. "All right, that's it. I should have done this a long time ago." Moving forward, we wound up as if readying for a punch.

"Hey, hey, hey, knock it off!" Chang yelled, whipping out his baton. "No fighting in the school, unless it's in the cafeteria and we're charging admission!"

"Get the hell out of my classroom!" exploded Professor Kane. "I don't know what this is about, but it can wait until after the makeup quiz."

Sticking out his tongue at Jeff, Chang retreated through the doorway, accompanied by the newcomer. The door slammed.

"Yes!" Abed said, pumping his fist. "This opens up so many possibilities. I think I'm going to like this episode."

"Shut up, Abed," Jeff said, sitting down. "Damn it, where did Annie run off to? And more importantly, why?"

"I don't know, but I'm worried for her," Shirley said, getting up. "I'm going to go see if she's all right."

"Me too," said Britta.

"No, no, this is not happening, everybody sit back down," protested Jeff, as Britta got up, followed by Troy, then Abed. "We need to finish this quiz."

"Yeah, well, in the list of most important things happening right now, the quiz just got bumped down a few notches," said Troy. He snapped his fingers, then took a key out of his pocket. "Notches... I'll need to add those when I get back to the study room."

The four of them filed out. Jeff looked at Pierce, who was still sitting at the table. "You're not leaving?"

Pierce leaned back and folded his hands behind his head. "Why should I, when I know all the answers?"

"You do _not_ know all the answers," muttered Jeff, scrutinizing the sheet.

"Sure I do. Annie tutored me. You learn pretty quickly when she rewards you with a hug after ten correct answers."

Jeff looked at Pierce critically. "Fine." He slid the paper over. "Fill it out so I can get out of here."

"Not so fast," said Pierce, savoring the moment. "If you want me to help, you'll have to do me a favor."

Jeff gritted his teeth. He looked at Pierce for a long moment, then let out a ragged breath. "What's the favor?"

* * *

><p>"I hope Annie's all right," Shirley fretted the next morning. She was walking down the hallway, next to Britta. "I wasn't able to get in touch with her last night."<p>

"I was," said Britta. She frowned. "She was acting a little strange. I wasn't able to get much out of her, but she did say she'd be here this morning."

Troy and Abed were following a short distance behind. "My plot synopsis subroutine is in overdrive," Abed said excitedly. "It's cycling through about a dozen permutations every few seconds. I've had to shut down the memo, scheduling, and targeting subroutines to free up processing power."

"Man, I wish I had a heads-up display for stuff like that," Troy said. "I wonder if you could take a fighter plane's cockpit display and install it on a pair of 3D glasses?"

"We'd need to find an electrician, or a computer programmer," said Abed. "But that's not a bad idea. Maybe we could open a project on Kickstarter."

"Or Kickstarter's evil rival, Startkicker," said Troy, grinning. They exchanged palm slaps and chest thumps.

The four of them found Annie at the table, without books, staring in front of her with a blank, lopsided smile. She was wearing a low-cut red dress and a very fluffy white shawl.

"Annie?" Shirley said, tentatively. "What's going on? What are you doing?"

Annie giggled, a little uncontrollably. "Oh em gee, you guys. I had to get here early, for, like, hair and makeup."

"Alicia Silverstone, Clueless," said Abed. He gave her a thumbs-up.

Annie giggled again. "As if," she said. She winced momentarily, then started over. "No, silly, I'm Alison Brie, remember?"

Shirley put a hand on Annie's forehead. "Oh, sweetie, you shouldn't be here. Why don't you lie down on the couch? Do you want me to call a doctor?"

Annie gasped. "Oh, no, like, that would totally shut down production. The director guy wants me to stay here. I think he has a crush on me." She giggled. "Hi director!" She waved at the far wall.

"Cool," said Abed. "Now I know where not to look during my take." He sat down.

"Am I high again?" asked Britta. "I thought I decided this month I would pay my rent."

"I think she's doing the Caroline Decker thing," said Troy. He received several stares in response. "Remember, on my 21st birthday? She used that fake ID and came up with a personality to go with it."

"Fine, but it's either Duncan or nobody," Jeff said, coming around the corner with Pierce in tow. He stopped and stared. "Annie, my birthday isn't for two weeks..." Seeing everyone looking at him, he quickly added, "...so tell Professor Whitman he can have that birthday cake back. Ahem." He cleared his throat and sat down. "Um... so are you feeling better today?"

Annie giggled. "For sure! Better than what?"

"Better than... freaking out and jumping through a window?"

"I've got to hand it to your stunt woman, Alison," said Abed. "That was a pretty smooth maneuver."

"Did you learn that trick in paintball?" Troy asked. "When you freaked out in high school, a lot more things got broken."

"No more paintball!" said Dean Pelton, marching into the study room. "We used up almost all of City College's prize money to clean up the school last year, and the air conditioning annex took the rest!"

"But the audience loves paintball!" said Annie. "We need a sequel!"

"We had a sequel," said Abed.

"I'm sorry, what?" said the Dean. He squinted at Annie, then adjusted his glasses. "_Very_ flattering outfit. I may have to boost your rank on the Student-Faculty Fraternization Watch List."

"I don't believe we've met," said Annie, standing up and extending her hand. "Hi, I'm actress Alison Brie."

"Great," said Jeff, performing an exaggerated shrug. "The Dean isn't the weirdest person in the room."

The Dean returned Annie's handshake uncertainly. "Hi, I'm actor Dean Pelton. I mean actor Craig Dean..." He took a step back. "Annie, what are you doing?" He looked at the group. "This is Annie, right?"

"Annie has adopted the personality of her alter ego," Abed said by way of explanation. "Assuming Alison Brie is the actress who plays Annie's character in the sitcom based on our lives. It's a fascinating deconstruction." He tilted his head. "Although there is necessarily some approximation because here we have an actress playing a character playing herself."

Dean Pelton considered this briefly. "Well, I'm not exactly sure I understand all of that, but on the other hand, I do love a good game of role play. Is this a group project for your film studies major, Abed?"

"You could think of it that way," Abed said.

"Wonderful!" Dean Pelton beamed. "Which actor plays me?"

"I haven't really figured that out yet," said Abed, pulling out his notebook. "Best candidate I have so far is Moby."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Dean, if this really were a TV show, your actor would be named Jock Itch."

"Okay, ou-uch?" the Dean said defensively. "And ouuuch..." he said, wincing, putting a hand on his crotch. "The price you pay for a Greendale gym membership." Then he brightened. "Jeffrey, you've noticed! Oh, I'm so glad you approve of my new athletic physique!" He put the same hand on Jeff's chest.

Jeff bolted to his feet. "Get the hell off of me!" He ripped off his shirt and threw it at the Dean. "You've been doing that all semester!"

"Oh my God," said the Dean, cowering rigidly. "I had a dream like this..."

"Sweeps week!" Abed said, gesturing with his finger.

There was a tense pause. Jeff was glaring at the Dean, who seemed unable to move. Annie was staring at the two of them, bug-eyed. Shirley was murmuring, "Oh, Jesus, help us out here..."

Eventually, Jeff broke the stare and looked at the study group. Then he looked at himself, looked at his shirt on the floor, grimaced, cursed under his breath, and sat down. "Right then, where were we?"

"Why doesn't Annie ever take off her shirt?" said Pierce.

"Pierce!" said Annie, shocked, amid several critical noises and tsk-tsking from the group. The Dean took advantage of the distraction to scoop up Jeff's shirt and quietly slip out the door.

"All right, look," said Jeff, splaying his hands on the table. "We are going to start this over. We are not studying film today, we are studying biology. So I want everybody to -"

"There are two types of people in the world," came a voice from the door.

"Ooh, Winger speech cut short," said Abed.

The older gentleman swaggered into the room. "Those who are lawyers, and those who are not lawyers." He stopped at the table, drawing out the moment. "I belong to the not-lawyer category." He looked at Jeff. "So I guess we finally have something in common."

Jeff grimaced, shut his eyes, then opened them, gritting his teeth. "Everybody, this is my dad... William Winger."

The elder Winger grinned. "Call me Bill." He regarded the table, speaking in a comfortable, lazy manner. "This is either the earliest or the lamest game of strip bingo I've ever seen." He raised an eyebrow at Jeff. "You falling behind, or did you give the others a handicap?"

Jeff groaned, and got up to search his bag for a replacement shirt. Bill took the opportunity to sit down in Jeff's place.

"He looks just like his mom," Bill said, motioning to Jeff. "So what are you all studying here?" He spun Britta's pile of books around. "Biology. Pff. Life sciences. Let me tell you something, if you want to get ahead in this world, there's just one subject you need to know. Three syllables. Ec-o-nomics," he said, ticking off three fingers, and still speaking in the same relaxed pace. "Would you rather be Joe the Plumber or Bernie Madoff?"

Troy's face fell briefly, but Jeff had rejoined the table (after some consternation at having to switch chairs), having donned a new shirt. "I'd rather be Joe the Plumber. Because you and Bernie Madoff have one thing in common: you're both con artists. Only, Bernie Madoff got caught."

Bill waved his hand dismissively. "Bad example. I was misquoted on that." He leaned back. "So what's going on? I haven't seen you since the Reagan administration."

"Wait, wait." Britta flailed to interject. "You haven't seen your son in 30 years and you just walk in like you're old pals? And you're a _con man_?"

"I prefer the term 'confidence man'," Bill replied. "It's more uplifting, don't you think? Actually, no. Stage magician, performance artist, social climber, sure, but not con man. Ugh." He made a face.

"Of course he's a con man," Pierce scoffed. "Don't believe a word this guy says. He cheated me out of five grand!"

Bill looked at Pierce quizzically. "Five grand nights on the French Riviera? In Las Vegas? I've stood up my share of women in my day, old man, but I don't swing that way. You're barking up the wrong tree."

Pierce spluttered. "He just called me gay!"

Despite their initial surprise, the members of the study group - except for Jeff and Pierce - were warming to Jeff's dad. He had a certain charisma, and his effortless ability to steer the conversation was undeniable.

"Mr. Murray," Abed said, then caught himself. "Sorry. Mr. Winger, would you be so kind as to sign this autograph sheet?"

Bill looked at Abed, then looked at Pierce, then threw back his head and laughed. "So that's what you meant!" He took his time composing himself. "Now that is a bit of a story." He motioned to Abed. "Here, son, send that over here."

Abed slid Bill the paper. Bill scribbled a quick signature, then looked up. "You're not the first person to make that mistake. I have, on occasion, been mistaken for the great Bill Murray himself."

Annie giggled uncertainly. "Oh, don't fib, we know you really are Bill Murray." She lowered her voice. "Your secret is safe with us."

Bill chuckled. "All right, believe that if you wish." Then he did a double-take. Looking at Jeff, he motioned back and forth between Jeff and Annie. "You'd better be doing something with that. I would, if it were me." He winked. Jeff rolled his eyes, while Annie blushed and looked down.

Returning his look to the group, Bill cleared his throat. "Right. So, I used to drive around in a Winnebago, and fairly often, people would stop me and ask if I was Bill Murray. They'd offer to buy me gas, or lunch, and they'd ask me to do a character impression or something. They thought they were getting the real deal, so who was I to let them down?" He chuckled, then stuck out his lower lip and adopted a deeper, slurred speech. "Cinderella story in the making. Real down and out guy in a Winnebago, finds an opportunity, people want to be cheered up. Can he do it? Can he bring a little cheer to their day? Oh, there it is, he did it!"

"Bravo!" Abed stood up and applauded, joined a split-second later by Troy. The rest of the study group, even the ones who were grinning, stayed seated, though they looked at Troy and Abed with no small amount of amusement. Jeff, however, stared at the table, shaking his head.

"Thank you, my good men," Bill said to them, twirling his hand and bowing his head. Troy and Abed sat back down. "So you see how it is. Once or twice I rented a tuxedo - which is another weird thing, people never buy tuxedos, they rent them, can you understand that? I've never understood that. You think you'd want to save money after the fourth, or fifth, or nineteenth tuxedo." He made an airy gesture. "I managed to get into some of those Hollywood parties with all the big shots. That's where I must have run into this guy," he said, indicating Pierce. "He walks up to me, and he must have been the oldest, richest guy to ever ask for my autograph. So I make a joke with him, and I said, sure, I'll give you my autograph for - what was it? For five thousand dollars. Wouldn't you know, he whips out his checkbook and writes a check for me on the spot!"

Everybody burst out laughing, except for Jeff and Pierce, though Jeff couldn't stifle a smile.

"That's ridiculous!" Pierce protested. "He lied! Pay me back or I'll sue! Jeff, tell him I have grounds to file suit."

"Now, now," Bill said condescendingly. "Number one, until Jeff gets his law degree restored, he can't offer any legal advice. Second, you gave me money in exchange for a signature, which as Jeff will be happy to tell you, creates an implicit, and perfectly legitimate, verbal contract. And D, you neither asked me who I was nor specified the name to sign." He sat back with a smirk, and looked at Jeff.

Jeff sighed. "Technically, that's all true. But you might be able to get him on some sort of warranty against misrepresentation. I'd consult a specialist in contract law."

"Charming." Bill clapped his hands together suddenly. "Well, look, I don't want to keep you guys from your classes," he said. "And I need to go see a man about a groundhog." He stood up. "Don't graduate without me."

Several eyes looked toward the clock; it was, indeed, several minutes past the hour. When they looked back, Bill Winger was gone.

"Dude, that was awesome!" Troy said. "Meeting your dad was like the best thing ever! Totally better than our trip to the train museum."

"He seemed nice," said Shirley, as the study group began to pack up to leave. "I know you haven't seen him since you were little, but don't you want to get to know him better?"

"Guys, look, I know he may seem like he's an awesome guy, but he's a con artist. He's up to something," said Jeff.

Annie nodded. "I'll ask the lead writer what to expect. Although I hear Bill Murray tends to ad-lib, so we may not know exactly what he's going to say."

"And _you_," Jeff said furiously, rounding on Annie and causing her to involuntarily step back. "I'm going to have enough on my plate dealing with my father. I do not need you playing mind games in the middle of it." He grabbed a handful of her shawl. "You're not Abed. What's your ulterior motive?"

The rest of the study group had almost left by this point, but Abed was watching the interaction from nearby. Troy hesitated, but Abed indicated that he would catch up.

Annie looked shocked, but then set her face in a firm expression. "Maybe I'm just following a different script today."

Jeff leaned closer. "And you wore that because the costume department gave it to you?"

"Didn't your dad say you should be doing something with this?"

"What I do is my own prerogative."

"Prerogative seems to be the one thing you don't exercise."

"There are two parts of exercise. Action and resistance."

"What?"

Jeff straightened up and smirked. "How well do you know your alter ego?" He pulled out his phone and started typing on it.

Annie made a confused expression, her mouth searching for a word to say. Just before she found one, Jeff handed her the phone. A YouTube video was playing, showing Alison Brie dressed in a rather feminine Santa outfit, singing "Santa Baby".

Annie's jaw dropped. After a few seconds, Jeff reached for the phone, but Annie yanked it away. "Uhhhh... I'm going to need to hang on to this for a bit. For, um... reasons." She grabbed her backpack and started to move away.

"Wait - give me back my phone!" Jeff snarled.

"Ask the prop department for a new one!" Annie said in a sing-song voice, scurrying off.

Jeff followed her halfheartedly. Abed stared down the hallway after the departing pair.

Leonard appeared next to Abed and followed his gaze. "Those two are getting ready to make out again," he put in conspiratorially.

"Shut up Leonard, you don't have the context to make that observation," replied Abed.

Leonard frowned. "No, you still don't have the hang of that yet."

"Didn't think so," Abed sighed. "Wait, did you say 'again'?"

"Of course!" Leonard chortled. "The first time was just after the Transfer Dance, when Annie decided not to run off with that hippie hacky-sack player. They were sucking face right on the steps of the library. They didn't see me because I was hiding in the bushes."

"Interesting," Abed said. "Why were you hiding in the bushes?"

Leonard shrugged. "I had to pee."

* * *

><p>Later that evening, a haggard Jeff knocked on Abed's door. Hearing nothing within but muffled music, shouting, and laughter, he sighed, imagining what shenanigans the occupants could be up to. After a few moments, he knocked again, more insistently.<p>

Eventually Abed opened the door. He was wearing a hazmat suit and a backpack, and carrying a shop-vac extension. "Hey," he said. "We're in the middle of a simulation."

Jeff was too tired to care. "I came to get my phone back. Britta told me that Annie would be here signing the lease."

Abed nodded. "She did that already, but she left the phone here. Let me see if I can find it." Opening the door wider, he motioned for Jeff to come in.

In the foyer, Jeff cringed, a thought occurring to him. "Don't tell me she put 'Alison Brie' on the paperwork."

"Nah," Abed said, rummaging through some things. "I convinced her it was better to stay in character for this one."

Jeff suddenly recognized the music as the theme from Ghostbusters. He glanced over to the Dreamatorium, where Troy was prancing back and forth, dressed in a similar getup as Abed. Then he realized there was somebody else there.

"Dad!" Jeff yelled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hey Jeff!" his dad waved from the Dreamatorium. He was dressed normally, but with the addition of a tattered wig. "Be with you in a moment!"

Jeff was aghast. "Are you reenacting a scene from Ghostbusters?"

"No," said Abed. "We're reenacting the scene from Zombieland where they reenact a scene from Ghostbusters."

"You're dead, Zombie Bill Murray!" yelled Troy, drawing Jeff's attention again. He suddenly produced a shotgun and leveled it at Bill Winger.

"No!" yelled Jeff, lunging for the shotgun. Surprised, Troy lost his grip on it. It made an ineffectual popping noise, and then clattered to the floor.

There was an awkward silence - or as much silence as could be mustered with the music blaring from the corner. After a beat, Abed turned off the stereo.

Bill broke the silence. "Hey Troy, are you glad to see me, or was that a shotgun in your pocket?"

"It's a toy shotgun, Jeff," explained Troy.

"This doesn't - Dad, why are you even here?"

"Oh, it's all good. They're putting me up for a few days," Bill said. "Abed really wants to run with the Bill Murray schtick, so I'm getting free room and board in exchange for impersonations." He sighed dramatically. "Makes me nostalgic for the good old days."

"Dad," Jeff said, very deliberately. "I want you to listen to me carefully. These are my friends. Everyone in the study group is my friend. I value these relationships much more highly than I value yours - which, let me remind you, has been almost nonexistent since I was five years old."

Bill said nothing.

Jeff continued, "If you have something to say, you will take it up with me. If you have something you need, you will take it up with me." He paused. "You've managed to get away with taking whatever you what, from whomever you want it, for practically your whole life. You don't offer anything in return, and if the well runs dry, you simply move to the next well. Not here. Whether you acknowledge it or not, your absence really screwed up my family. I am not going to allow your _presence_ to screw up the study group." Jeff retrieved his phone from Abed, then turned away. "Good night." He left, slamming the door.

Bill considered. "A one-man swarm of locusts. Just going door-to-door, sucking the blood from every living creature."

"Like cat vampires," Troy said.

Bill nodded. "Or insurance salesmen."

"I'm not worried," Abed said. "Bill Murray is known for playing the lovable rogue, the sardonic everyman. Even if his character is jerk, there's always some way to redeem him."

"I hope this didn't disrupt your simulation too much," Bill said.

Abed shrugged. "Not quite how I planned this evening, but far more interesting. Tweeting it."

Bill Winger grinned. "No one will ever believe you."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Jeff strode down the hallway with considerably less self-assurance than usual. Seeing Abed ahead, he stopped him. "Abed, I may not have been the most encouraging - or eloquent - speaker last night, but what I said needed to be said. Did you see any sign that my dad actually took it to heart?"<p>

Abed tilted his head. "I doubt it. You and your dad are alike in many ways. You both like doing what you want to do, and you resent other people telling you differently. You both naturally fill the leadership role in a group of people, though your dad has the advantage of age and experience and easily outranks you in that regard. And you both tend to exploit other people to accomplish your goals."

"Abed -" Seeing the rest of the study group approaching, Jeff grabbed Abed by the shoulder and hauled him into the locker room. "Abed, there is a world of difference between me and my dad. My dad didn't lead my family; he wasn't even there. And sure, maybe I've exploited people in the past, but that's not who I am anymore. I've learned that friendship is a two way street."

"The study group has been good for you, Jeff," Abed replied. "It's helped you mature. Maybe it'll help your dad do the same. And in most Bill Murray movies -"

"Oh, damn it, enough with the Bill Murray references!" Jeff shouted, throwing up his hands. "Let me know when you're ready to deal with problems in the real world." He stormed out, leaving Abed alone.

There was a flash, a thump, and a gust of air, and Abed and Troy appeared in the middle of the room. Both were wearing oversized helmets, and Abed was carrying some sort of PDA that was connected to the helmets via wires. Troy had a big grin on his face, but it vanished as he looked around.

"Damn it," Troy said, "why do we keep ending up in locker rooms?" Spying the urinals, he amended his complaint: "And if they have to be locker rooms, why can't they be girls' locker rooms?"

The new Abed was punching buttons on the PDA. "I'm not sure. I'm still figuring out this thing."

Troy spied Abed, and the grin returned. "Oh, hey Abed!"

The Abed who was examining the PDA instantly looked up and grabbed Troy's arm. "Whoa, paradox alert. Careful Troy, this could be dangerous." He paused a moment. "Abed, what episode is this?"

Abed, who had been watching them impassively, finally spoke. "It's the Bill Murray episode. Good thing you just missed Jeff; he's been under a lot of stress this week. The sight of two Abeds probably would have convinced him he was insane."

"Cool," Abed replied. "We're from the time travel episode. Unfortunately, we weren't planning on running into anybody just yet, so... I'm going to have to ask you to pretend you never saw us."

"Good as done," Abed replied.

"Can't we tell him about -" started Troy.

Future Abed cut him off. "Sorry Troy, not yet. We don't know whether time actually works like Bill and Ted or Back to the Future, so we can't risk setting up an unstable time loop."

Troy looked bewildered and put his hands on his helmet. "This is wrinkling my brain."

Abed finished reconfiguring the PDA. "See you Abed... or rather, you'll see me." The two Abeds exchanged palm slaps and chest thumps.

Troy's eyes bulged. "Whoa, that has _got_ to be the number one weirdest thing -" He and Abed disappeared with a flash, thump, and gust of air.

Abed stood there for a moment, watching the empty space. "Cool," he said finally. "Cool, cool, cool." He walked out.


End file.
